


fault lines

by dellaluce



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-20
Updated: 2010-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dellaluce/pseuds/dellaluce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>just because she didn't mean it doesn't mean she didn't start it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	fault lines

**Author's Note:**

> flash-fic written for star kirby's adorable picture [here](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v313/Trina-Chan/heartsdxj3.jpg)  
> with the caption:  
> everythings not your fault  
> itll be okay  
> so get a hold of yourself

Thirteen years and the world falls down ( _and down, and down_ ) once, twice, three times as she stands aside and watches. By the fourth she can barely take it anymore, heartsick at all the red-gold and burning even if this world was already painted with the colors of fire before it fell; it's his planet and it could've been him. It almost was.

And it's her fault. The clouds had made it seem so harmless. If she could've felt then what she feels now--the shudder-shake of fear and adrenaline, the sting of black oil-smoke in her nose, the feeling that makes her stomach dizzy and her vision blur at the edges, _it's all her fault, it's all her, it's her, it's her_ \--then she would've chosen not to feel them. She would've said--

Nothing. Or something. Or-- _Sorry, Rose, I don't know what to do about your cat. No, John, the game isn't very good. Your brother's right, Dave, don't bother._

His face is unreadable--it's always unreadable and she wants to scream at him, take him by the shoulders and push him, force him into reaction, _it's my fault, blame me, goddamnit_ , but she does nothing except twist her lips up trying not to cry. He holds her by the arms and she lets him, knows he can feel her shake because she can feel him shake, too.

“It's my fault, Dave,” she says; the words fall out before she can stop them, like she stopped them a thousand times before. She used to get this crazy idea in her head from time to time that she didn't have to hide her cards anymore, that she could show him her hand and he'd take it--but she would always stop before it got too far and she ruined everything. Her mouth trembles and feels weak, and maybe that's why it's different this time. “ _All of it_ , it's _all_ my fault--I did this, I made this happen, I _worked for this_ , and--”

“Hey.” He stops the words that she can't, long enough for her to breathe herself into stillness. Fever-hot fingers press at her clammy forehead, a thumb running her worry-creases before tucking stray, crazy curls behind her ear. “Come on, no time for that. One in two chance he's coming here next; we have to be ready.”

“Dave, I--”

“--And it's not your fault, alright?” She lists and he holds her steady, and--there's that reaction, the way his brows lance and his lips tuck into a frown, the look all foreign on a face so unaccustomed to moving. “Pull yourself together, Jade, I mean--Jesus Christ. You didn't do this. How could you have even done this?”

She could tell him, maybe; and maybe he'd hate her for it once he knows for sure, and maybe she'd deserve it. _Just because she didn't mean it doesn't mean she didn't start it_ \--and now she's crying, feels the salt-tracks on her cheeks and tastes it on her lips. The Land of Heat and Clockwork is slag now, she sees it burning quiet in the sky even as she can pretend to smell it, hear it, feel it because she smelled it, heard it, felt it all the same on her pretty golden moon.

“It hurts, Dave,” she whispers. _The world burns and she watches it and it falls on her and it hurts._

She can't fly anymore, but she can fall, she can fold ( _so tired of playing with these cards_ ), and she does just that against his chest, weaving arms around him for something to hold onto. He lets her.

"It'll be fine," he murmurs into her hair, repeats it two more times because she needs to hear it. She doesn't know if she believes him, but she can try.


End file.
